Becoming More
by Joey-Potter68
Summary: Harry and Hermione are in their seventh year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and they find themselves in a rather peculiar predicament. The two seventeen-year-olds end up sharing a cabin on a class trip that is supposed to act as a temporar
1. Awkward Circumstances

_Chapter One_

_Awkward Circumstances_

It was rather ironic, the situation that Harry and Hermione had found themselves in. Many students had taunted the two Gryffindors about the high probability of their becoming a couple, and the current domestic circumstances were uncanny. However, it wasn't a voluntary predicament; Draco Malfoy had taken over the duty of passing out cabin keys to the seventh year wizards and witches on the trip. Professor McGonagall had been adamant about limiting cabin pairings to same sex, but when Malfoy got a hold of the keys, that concept was completely thrown out the window.

"Potter, Granger, there's a quaint country house that you two might enjoy," Draco had said, throwing Harry a set of keys. Harry simply looked at Malfoy skeptically. "Draco…" The only explanation he received was a smirk and pair of raised eyebrows from the smug Slytherin. Without any further interrogations, Draco continued with his pairing of cabin mates.

Hermione nervously glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye. _Good_, she thought, _he looks just as uneasy about this as I am._ After all, she had heard the countless tales of what happened in between the sheets during these trips. Even though she and Harry were only friends, Hermione couldn't help but ponder the possibilities. She recalled the story of a Gryffindor and Slytherin that had visited this place on their seventh year outing four years ago. They had come as 'just friends', but had left much more than that. As a shudder slowly crept up her spine, Hermione hoped Harry's male hormones wouldn't overpower his sense of rationality and personal dignity.

Draco tossed out the last pair of keys, and with a devilish twinkle in his eye, notified everyone that it was time to head for the cabins. Harry awkwardly stuck his hands in his pockets, and motioned with a slight head nod for Hermione to follow him. The two walked in silence until Draco brushed past, purposely bumping into Harry's shoulder. "So, Potter, prepared to score tonight?" he said, his arm draped around a smirking Blaise Zabini. Harry fought to keep his temper under control, so he was surprised when Hermione whipped out her wand and placed it at Draco's throat. Blaise backed off on instinct; she didn't want to interfere with a seething Hermione Granger. After all, this wasn't the first time something like this had occurred.

"You foul, loathsome, little cockroach!" Hermione yelled, her eyes livid. Draco quivered under the touch of her wand, and Harry's eyes grew wide.

"Hermione, don't! He's not worth it," he shouted. Only at Harry's voice did Hermione lower her wand.

"C'mon Harry, let's go."

The two Gryffindors stalked off to their cabin, Hermione still fuming. Harry turned the key in the handle of the door, and Hermione crossed her arms across her chest. After ten minutes, the door still wasn't open, and Hermione was becoming impatient. "What's taking so long?"

Harry sighed. "The key isn't working."

"Obviously."

"Well what would you like me to do about it?"

Hermione shoved Harry aside, pulling out her wand._ "Alohamora!"_ Using a simple enchantment, the door swung open. Rolling her eyes, Hermione walked inside, Harry following her and closing the door behind them. The seventeen year old witch flung her bags onto the nearest couch and then plopped herself down. "Draco is the biggest git I've ever encountered in my life."

"Tell me about it." Harry concurred. Running his hand over the arm of the sofa, he wandered around aimlessly trying to get a feel for the place. He noticed a fireplace similar to the one in the Gryffindor common room and realized that all the furniture here was red and gold plaid. This trip was supposed to be an escape from Hogwarts and the wizarding world. However, it seemed as though evading their normalcy was impossible. Curious, Harry peered into the bedroom. A luxurious four-poster mahogany bed took up the majority of space; yet a secluded door inside the room revealed a private bathroom with marble flooring, bathtub, and sink.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice echoed from the other room. "What are you doing in there?"

Harry sighed and proceeded to head back into the room where Hermione sat. He plopped himself down beside her, smiling reluctantly. "What's the matter?" Hermione questioned. Harry detected a flicker of concern in her eyes, and he decided that he couldn't prevaricate matters.

"I'm bothered by what Draco said."

"About what?" Hermione sniggered. "Sleeping with me? Honestly, Harry, Malfoy is just trying to get under your skin. And it seems to be working."

Harry simply stared at her. "Getting under my skin? Hermione, who was the one who attacked him and almost hexed him?"

"Alright, alright," she confessed. "So I got a little irritated."

After receiving raised eyebrows from Harry, she threw her hands up in the air. "Okay, so I got a LOT irritated. But forgive and forget, Harry. He's a git, and he's made it his personal mission to annoy the bloody hell out of you. I wouldn't fret about it."

As Hermione pulled a book out of her bag and became absorbed in the novel, Harry couldn't help but be curious. It bothered him slightly that Hermione found the subject of sleeping with him hilarious. But as he pondered it further, his eyes grew wide. "Since when did that become important to me?" he thought aloud.

Hermione glanced up from the book that she was reading. "Sorry Harry, did you say something?"

Feeling his face grow flush, Harry stared at his feet. "It was nothing." Keen on avoiding another slip like that, Harry headed for the bedroom and some privacy. As he situated himself on the comfortable king size mattress, he idly pulled his wand out of his jeans pocket and used it to close the door. Noticing the fireplace in the room, he thought of Sirius. It had been quite awhile since his death, two years in fact. Harry had convinced himself that Sirius was not dead, but no one has ever evaded death once Voldemort has decided that would be his or her fate. No one except Harry of course.

Hermione had also rebutted Sirius' death. That fatal day in the Ministry of Magic where Harry had discovered the prophecy and found himself face to face with a group of Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort, Sirius had come to save him. Sirius had battled with Bellatrix Lestrange until a jet of light had hit him square in the chest, knocking him behind the curtain. Everyone insisted that he was dead, but Hermione refuted everything that they had to say. "He can't _possibly_ be dead!! When a wizard uses the Avada Kedavara curse, a jet of green light shoots out of their wand. Bellatrix's wand produced red light!! Sirius is not dead!!"

Harry had appreciated Hermione's efforts to convince others of the truth, but it had done nothing. Harry was even starting to doubt if Sirius was still alive. After all, it'd been two years. There was nothing he or anybody could do to bring him back. Harry would just have to accept his godfather's fate, whatever it was.

"Harry! Harry, for heaven's sake, what are you doing in there?" Hermione's voice shook Harry out of his thoughts.

"Just thinking is all."

Hermione pushed the door open a crack. "Well, you're starting to frighten me. Shutting yourself away from the world, honestly. People are going to start to think you've gone mental," she said with a smile.

"As if they don't already?"

"Oh right," she said, grinning. "You and Dumbledore are both nutters." Sitting down on the bed next to Harry, her expression reflected apprehension. "But seriously Harry, are you okay?" She looked into his emerald green eyes, and for once, couldn't tell how he was feeling.

"Yeah. I was just thinking about Sirius and that day at the Ministry. It's been two years, Hermione," he said, placing his hand atop hers and sitting upright. "Without you, I don't think I would have been able to make it through those two years." He watched as a smile crept onto her face and she blushed wildly. "It's still been so difficult, though. No one realizes that I didn't ask for the fame, and if I could, I would rather be just an ordinary wizard."

"Harry, you'd never be able to be an ordinary wizard," Hermione interjected. "You care too much for others, always trying to make the world a better place. You're a hero at _heart_, not because of your past. Even if you didn't escape Voldemort, or he never tried to kill you in the first place, you'd still be fighting the dark things in this world. It's just who you are."

Harry smiled from ear to ear. "Remind me if I ever lose faith in myself to come to talk to you, 'Mione." Beaming, Hermione nodded her head.

"God, woman, you're amazing!" Harry leapt off of the bed and engulfed Hermione in his arms, twirling her around.

"Now isn't this better than worrying about some idiotic thing that Draco said?" Hermione whispered in Harry's ear. Harry set her down, his hands still clasped to her waist.

"Much better," he admitted. "Yet there's still something missing." Hermione noticed the sudden glazed look in Harry's eyes, and was suddenly fearful of the next thing to come out of his mouth. And when it did, Hermione almost burst into tears. "_Ron_."

The two had agreed not to bring up the subject of their best friend around each other, for it was just too painful. Not only was it horrible enough that he was dead, but both felt as if his death was their fault. "Harry…." Hermione whispered.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry muttered. "I don't know what made me say that."

Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry, sighing heavily. "It's okay. We all miss him."


	2. Reliving the Past

_Chapter Two_

_Reliving the Past_

Harry shook his head. "Still, we promised each other that we wouldn't talk about it. We haven't brought it up for six months."

Hermione sighed, taking Harry's hands in hers. "Thinking about Ron is inevitable. He was our _friend_, Harry. Our _best _friend. It's normal not to forget."

She herself could not forget that critical summer's day. Voldemort had once again been relentlessly pursuing Harry, and the Order of the Phoenix had been reinstated. Lupin was worried, Molly was frantic, and of course, Hermione and Ron were agonizing over the situation. Due to the dire circumstances, an emergency meeting of the Order was arranged in which Harry's fate was to be decided. Everyone had gathered at Sirius's mansion, which had been left to Harry by his godfather. Even though at the time Hermione and Ron were only sixteen, they too were called to attend the meeting. "You're his best friends," Dumbledore had said. "You know Harry the best, and can undoubtedly assist in the pronouncement of some sort of resolution."

Harry had sat anxiously in another room, ignoring the queasy feeling in his own stomach. He couldn't even mock a smile when Fred and George offered one of their products to eavesdrop. When Hermione and Ron finally came out of the meeting, Harry practically leapt on top of them. "Well?" he demanded. Hermione's expression was dubious, and Ron simply gazed into the distance.

"We're going to need a strand of your hair, Harry."

The trio of Gryffindors wandered around the corridors until they found a secluded room where they could talk in peace. Ron sat down in an oversized armchair in the corner, whilst Hermione stood beside him. Impatient, Harry slammed the door shut after all had entered the room. "Well?"

"Voldemort is more ruthless than ever, Harry. A narrow escape from death is not likely; that's why all these precautions are being made," Hermione said, drawing in a deep breath. "You're in serious danger, and the Order can't afford for you to be wandering around unprotected. That's why we've come up with a plan, a plan that uses a decoy of you to lure Voldemort here. Then Dumbledore can have his way with him."

"Well then what do you need a strand of my hair for?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "Do you remember back in our second year when the Chamber of Secrets was opened and we thought Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin? We wanted to know for sure, so you and Ron drank that Polyjuice Potion to become Crabbe and Goyle. That was only after you pulled out some of their hair; they had been knocked out from a Sleeping Draught, because we didn't want them bursting in while you interrogated Draco. You added the hairs to the potion so you would assume the form of that person for an hour. Well, it's almost the same thing as what we're trying to do now, only whoever becomes you will be acting as a decoy, Harry."

"Well, who is it? Who's going to risk their life for something like that?"

Ron cleared his throat. "I am," he admitted reluctantly. "I agreed to it during the meeting."

After persistent urgings, Harry still couldn't convince his best friend to discontinue with the plan. Everything was set; Ron was to drink the Polyjuice Potion and become Harry. "God, I forgot how horrible this stuff tastes," Ron complained after taking a huge gulp of the potion.

Harry attempted a half-smile. "I still can't believe you're doing this."

"I'd do anything for my best mate."

At that moment, Hermione came bursting in, looking as if she were about to cry. Her eyes glazed over and her expression saturnine, she walked solemnly over to her two friends. "Ron," she whispered. "Dumbledore is ready for you." Grasping Harry's hand, Hermione watched Ron walk out the door. He looked determined, as if he was prepared to meet any end, just as long as he didn't fail his best friend.

Tears sprung from Hermione's eyes, faint sobs shaking her body. "C'mon, 'Mione, it's not as if he's already died," Harry said. Not receiving any coherent responses from the seventeen-year-old witch, he sighed. "So what do we do now?"

"We sit and wait," Hermione faintly said, stifling a sniffle.

Walking lethargically down the seemingly endless flight of stairs, Ron Weasley, now in the form of Harry Potter, prepared himself mentally for the task at hand. He was skeptical about the whole thing, but he couldn't turn back now. He had promised Harry. As he passed the paintings on the decaying walls, the wizards and witches in them did not utter a word. They too seemed to know the magnitude of this event, and all that moved were their eyes as they bore down upon the courageous young wizard's spine.

When Ron finally reached Dumbledore, both wizards exchanged brief glances-Ron's expression tense, Dumbledore's grave. Neither of them spoke as the Headmaster led Ron to the front door of the mansion. "Now Ron, you know what to do," Dumbledore said as a final word. Ron nodded his head hesitantly; yes, he knew what he must do. It would take some acting on his part and Dumbledore's as well. However, it was imperative that their goal was accomplished; Voldemort must be defeated.

Wand in hand, Ron turned the bronze plated handle of the door and stormed out, Harry's green eyes flaring. Dumbledore followed close behind, halting in the door's frame. "Harry Potter, as much as a grievance as this is for me, you have performed illegal magic. You are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." As Dumbledore spoke, his voice remained calm and collected. The decoy Harry turned to face the Headmaster, his eyes alight with rage. "You know what, I've had enough! Enough with trying to play hero and consequently being penalized for it! If I hadn't interfered, that Muggle would have been killed! You really think I like living in fear that every corner I turn will have Voldemort lurking around it?"

A shriek suddenly echoed from inside the mansion, and Professor Dumbledore hurried off to investigate. As if on cue, a faint, hissing voice came from behind the bushes. _"Harry Potter."_ The frightened young wizard slowly turned around to find himself face-to-face with the Dark Lord. "So we finally meet again, Harry," Voldemort sneered. "And unfortunately for you, there is no one here to save you. Not even Dumbledore is here for you now. But let me ask you something, Harry. How does it feel to be expelled from the only place you felt like you ever belonged? Lonely and betrayed perhaps?" Ron knew as Voldemort spoke, his words would have hit Harry straight in his heart. This only deepened his hatred for the dark wizard. "No," the play-actor Harry said. "It only makes me regret that I didn't kill you for destroying my life when I had the chance." He raised his wand up into the air, preparing for whatever might be thrown his way. However, before he could even open his mouth, Voldemort had drawn his wand out of his robes. The Dark Lord then spat the most unforgivable of the curses. "Avada Kedavara!"

A brilliant green light shot out from the end of Voldemort's wand and hit Ron square in the chest. Instantaneously, the young wizard was killed, and he dropped to the ground, limp and motionless. Cackling, Voldemort jeered at his dead body. "Who's almighty now, Potter?"

At the sound of the insane laughter, Dumbledore rushed back down the stairs. Meanwhile, Voldemort noticed something peculiar about Harry. As mere seconds passed, the boy's scar vanished, and his hair turned to a flaming shade of red. Before long, Harry Potter had completely transformed back into Ron Weasley. Dumbledore appeared in the doorway, and at the sight of Lord Voldemort, drew out his wand. But he was too late. The Dark Lord had already disapparated, leaving only the lifeless body of Ron.

"OH MY GOD!!" came from behind the Headmaster. Apparently, Hermione had trailed behind Dumbledore, against what he advised her to do. Not being able to handle the sight of her best friend's dead body, she ran upstairs to no doubt tell the news to Harry.

"Hermione! Hermione, are you in there?" Harry's voice jerked Hermione back from her flashback.

"Yes, yes, I just got a little sidetracked, that's all."

"Hermione," Harry started. "I think you're the one people are going to suspect's gone mental." Sighing, Hermione stood up and headed for the door out of the bedroom. Suspicious and concerned, Harry leapt up from where he was sitting and blocked her exit from the room. She did not try to fight her way out through the human barrier, just simply stood there, face directed at the floor. Picking up Hermione's chin, Harry was shocked to discover her cheeks dripping with tears.

"'Mione, are you okay?"

"Yes, Harry, I'm fine!" she shouted rather harshly. Taken aback by her abrupt mood swings, Harry moved aside and let her pass through. Hermione quickly headed for the main bathroom in the cabin, locking herself in. Harry wasn't quite sure, but he thought that he heard the faintest sniffles coming from inside the locked room.

A sudden knock on the front door startled Harry, for what he was least expecting and hoping for were visitors. However, he wasn't fond of being rude; reluctantly, he pulled open the door. What he found waiting on the other side was a certain Draco Malfoy, dressed only in a pair of swimming trunks. "Can I help you?" Harry said with a forced smile.

"Is Granger here?" Draco questioned.

Harry pursed his lips. "Where else would she be? Yes, she's here, Malfoy, but she's kind of….unavailable at the moment. Why?"

"I just wanted to tell her that the hot tub has an available seat open if she's willing to sit next to me," the smug Slytherin said with a smirk. Harry responded by slamming the door in Draco's face, muttering, "Arrogant bastard," under his breath.


End file.
